K&M

Still breathing.
Both tubed with a million snaking plastic snakes that invade every secret corner.
Every drop of in and out, every breath measured
As if to weigh your soul.
"Lighten up."
I wonder if your heart was light. I wonder why you waited so long.
And punishments like this make me wonder why you still believe.
There's a small card on the wall by one's bed, signed by a loving nurse in her daughter's name.
And miles of sterile hallway away, there's a paper with the other's name, colored by another loving nurse instead of her mother's hand.
They're poor, poor substitutes for what should be.
One flash, one wavering sleepy instant changes a family's hopes and dreams forever.
I wonder if you'll ever wake up, either one.
I want so badly for him to have one. If he can't have one, have the other, to not to have to say goodbye to both would be Mercy.

But if there's to be neither, can they go together? I play a scene in my mind, a hushed room, still of all the beeps and lights - with a small family together for the last time. Two souls, making the greatest transition together - a tiny, only daughter who was too small to fight hard enough, and her mother whose obstacles were just too great... And a man about to lose everything he ever truly loved and dreamed and hoped for. I want for them to go together, if they both have to go.

It's the living I am sorry for. It's those who have to get out of bed and go to work and trowel on a smile in the morning, whose every day forward will be measured by this one. She's a mother, now, but will never know it. But you'll always remember that you are a father to a perfect little soul.

If you had to choose, which would you? Whose injuries are fewest? Whose crimes are worst? Whose dreams were worth most? Innocence? Who knew you best? Who can say who you loved most - your daughter, or your wife?

Wake up, you must cry. Just wake up. Oh, please, God - wake up. What would you give for one day? One word? One smile?

They're still breathing, for now. Used to be one was breathing for the other, but I fixed that, didn't I. I'm bitter, still. I wonder if I should have left well enough alone, if you'd have more peace never knowing. There's still a glimmer of hope, one star, one single piece of square glitter that might give you that smile, someday.
But probably not. I hope you can find the strength, someday, to say the words that will vanish that hope and allow you to find your own way, again.

K&M, I am sorry you never knew eachother.
I hope you find one another again.